


you were cast from perfect ivory (are your hands as cold as it?)

by grandstander



Category: League of Legends
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 02:36:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10504677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grandstander/pseuds/grandstander
Summary: He was as pure marble, edged in gold; and he was as obsidian dripping with blood.





	

**Author's Note:**

> hey league fandom i'm here to deliver poetic gay garbage

Unwavering, dauntless, ruthless, unafraid— was Darius describing himself, or were those words more applicable to Garen Crownguard? That was what frustrated him the most: where did their similarities end and their differences begin? It was a muddled line that he hated; it should be clear, clean and sharp like the fine edge of the axe he wielded, not like the way blood and mud bled into each other on the battlefield.

Even then, when it seemed that they were two kindred souls of war, embodied and emboldened alike for their homelands, there was a furiating edge. A difference. Red and rage colored Darius’ edges, his soul wrought from Ares; he was a beast of a man while the Demacian general always stood unwavering, his own fury golden and righteous, as if his very bones were made from pure white ivory.

Garen stood in the way that would encourage one to throw themselves at his feet and beg forgiveness for whatever misdeeds colored their life; his hands would bring glory and redemption to those that did and he would carry them as Atlas carries the weight of the world. Darius’ own hands were calloused with power and justice born of the betrayed; he would not carry the weak, for the weak could not survive, and his hands would cut them down. That was what was infuriating; this way they seemed to blend and clash all at once, as if they were two poles of the axis (always rivaling one another, always like one another).

His justice seemed purer to the naked eye. If it weren’t for the fact that he’d seen it himself, sometimes Darius could swear if he slashed Garen’s flesh it would run with ichor rather than blood. Golden, righteous, like marble stone and the great spearhead of that disgusting model of perfection that was the country of Demacia. He hated it to his very core, it fed that fire that ignited his soul and kept the roaring savagery in him alive.

(Perhaps it was a juvenile jealousy, that such an strict and rudimentary country could make itself seem so pure and glory laden while the rest of the world suffered. It was a country of molds, casts where if one did not fit, they would be abandoned. Everyone had a place, and a place must be accepted. He hated their restrictive culture; they were shadows of the past that were too proud to change, to advance, to grow truly strong. Noxus had learned to adapt, it had learned to grow strong and fight for itself, Noxus did not cling to their shadow.)

Worst of all, is that his soul ached for that redemption anyway; it was a cruel misfortune. He could lie, sweep it under a dismissal of simply being respect for a formidable warrior in battle, for his abilities as a general, but that was but a shell to hide the tender flesh of fact. He wanted that forgiveness, to know if those hands that wielded a sword like it was the righteous hand of gods were as cold as ivory or if they were warm with kindness. If he were to touch him, to meet his skin, would he find the mighty horror of an angel’s wing with their thousand eyes or would he find the tender flesh of a man?

Darius wanted salvation, he wanted kindness; something that was robbed from him no sooner than when he stumbled from his cradle. He wanted to know if there was anything good in this world already existing, if there was something softer already born that could be defended. He wanted to know that this world was stronger and kinder than he had lived it. Darius wanted to know if strength and kindness were in Garen’s hands.

He hated Garen for that, too.

**Author's Note:**

> hopefully i'll write more for them in the future. i'd like to see more fics with them exploring their depth. 
> 
> if i do write more it'll probably be short things until the league lore for noxus updates 
> 
> anyway, i hope y'all like this!!


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